


He'll never admit it

by Nemurenai



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drabble, M/M, i guess fluff, more sleeping boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemurenai/pseuds/Nemurenai
Summary: Routines and habits aren't always a bad thing.





	He'll never admit it

**Author's Note:**

> STRIKE OF INSPIRATION AT 4AM.
> 
> Uploaded straight from my phone unedited, I apologise if there are any errors.

It's not that Kageyama wanted to sleep but his eyelids always threatened to close and his vision swam when it hit ten o'clock.

When teased about it, Kageyama's excuse was that he was a growing boy. He needed the sleep just as much as he needed to eat and to that Tsukishima would always smirk and tell the King that he was a baby.

In winter this was even more prominent, with the warmth of the kotatsu threatening to cast the spell called sleep upon him while he snuggled up, the quiet hum of late night tv serving as a lullaby and most times Tsukishima would find the setter hunched over the table with his face buried into his arms, the spell claiming its victim yet again.

And the next day Tsukishima would snap at Kageyama to take himself to bed with the valid excuse of the boy being heavy, which he was - but that never stopped the blonde from sighing under his breath upon seeing the sleeping boy and scooping him up, carefully holding him close to his chest and quietly tucking him in under the sheets of their shared bed.

He developed a habit of silently watching the King roll into the covers which was the blonde's cue that his mission had been accomplished without fault, picking up the remote and switching off the tv. Only the turning of textbook pages and the king's dream fueled mumbling stirring the muted silence.

When Tsukishima headed to bed it would be almost midnight, where he routinely placed his empty mug of tea in the sink, pack away his books for the next day and turn the lights off. The faint glow of the moon and slivers of neighbouring lights dimly illuminating the room.

When he slipped under the covers Kageyama would roll over, whether it was conscious or not Tsukishima would never know, and the blonde would take that chance to softly run his hands over the setter's face and press his lips against the King's forehead and whisper a quiet goodnight.

 

Tsukishima would never admit it, but a part of him looked forward to going to sleep each night.

 

* * *

 

Tsukishima didn't like mornings. It was hard enough opening his eyes but physically getting himself out of bed was like asking him to block an invisible ball. It was impossible.

When told, Kageyama reasoned that even if a ball was invisible it wasn't 'impossible' to block, to which Tsukishima seriously considered why he was living with an idiot.

He already had enough trouble getting to sleep with the King kneeing him in the ribs while unconscious and so asking him to get up early in the morning was beyond unreasonable. Getting to school and to morning practice just on time was fine for him, it never bothered anyone - except his highness.

Even when Kageyama pulled the sheets away and exposed the taller boy to the biting cold, he'd only incur a furrowed brow and a slurred, incomprehensible retort before the sheets were snatched out of the setter's hands.

For Kageyama his eyes always fluttered open at five, just as the sun had peeked over the horizon, a ritual that was ingrained into his body. 

He would climb out of bed and brush his teeth before changing quickly to prevent the winter cold from nipping at his hands and feet. And by the time the sun was lazily streaming through the window Kageyama was out the door, sprinting around the corner and down the block, leaving a trail of breath behind him.

As quickly as he was gone he would be back, the door creaking as suppressed panting filled the air and the sound of the shower and not so quiet clatter of clumsy hands would jolt Tsukishima awake where he would lie, and again, wonder why he lived with such an inconsiderate idiot before drifting back to sleep.

When Kageyama exited the shower he would always make another attempt at waking the blonde, which Tsukishima did not appreciate, responding by wrapping himself aggressively into the depths of the covers.

Kageyama always told Tsukishima that he would never bother waking him up again, because it was 'troublesome', but he always did - by washing the cup left in the sink, turning on the tv to let the morning news fill the room, toasting a slice of bread, slathering it with butter and microwaving a cup of milk.

And finally, he would unfurl a sleeping Tsukishima from the sheets and hesitate, every time, before his lips met the blonde's, breathing a gruff good morning that Tsukishima wasn't ever awake enough to hear.

   
Kageyama would never admit it, but a part of him looked forward to waking up each morning.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always I hope you enjoyed it~


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